A friend wrote this after she came to meet me in G’s native place. I am touched! Sharing here with her permission…
She spoke and spoke
Of memories of both of them
All in the very hope
That she wouldn’t forget them.
Rain fell and the sun shone
But she had no recollection
She only cared about her phone
As she had all of him in that collection!
Grief is a funny thing
At first it hits you like a rock
It then has you in a sling,
And all it does is mock.
Some are strong, some not so
Some throw the rock back right at grief
Most making it part of their bio
And suffer like a meek.
But not she. She had grief by her hands
She was going to beat it black and blue
After all, life is like starlit white sands
With grief and joy both in its hue.